Unusual In Usual
by Shrimptastic
Summary: The routine around Central can sometimes be anything but. Rated for Ed's language. Disclaimer in the summary: I don't own FMA.


Edward let the breath he had been holding go in one outward gasp. In that one exhales the pain became vibrant once again. Funny how when you hold your breath it sort of dulls everything… He thought, dropping his head, chin almost resting on his chest. There was sweat beading from his forehead, dripping down the still child-like curves of his face. He was quite thankful for the wall he was leaning against, it was giving him a few seconds of necessary rest before he trudged off back to HQ, where, invariably, he would get lectured, made fun of, glared at and/or basically patronized. Edward thought a moment and realized it was really going to be all of the above. Maybe he would bleed on Roy, which might make him feel better.

He raised his blonde head a bit to examine the neat slice across his left upper arm. It started back around his triceps and kept going almost around to make a full half circle. It was angled a bit, making the blood drip in a way that looked far worse than what it was. The flow of blood was already less, luckily for Edward because if he shook his head fast enough (which he kept on doing like the juvenile idiot that he was) he got quite dizzy. He had his automail hand gripped over it once more, and he raised his head higher, sighing a bit.

There was a small splatter of blood in his hair- his bangs to be specific, and he blew the offending bloody hair over his right eye out of the way. It didn't help. It never helped. For some stupid reason he always did it though.

Al would scream at him for this one…

Scream in his, "I'm a sweet little pacifist trying to be intimidating voice". Which was more like Ed talking loud, rather than anyone yelling. Cept maybe Fury.

Al hated seeing Ed bloody. Ed pretended not to know why- but he knew. He knew the first time he'd gotten beat up on the job with Al. It was reckless (as usual). Al yelled at him a sentence Ed would never forget- not that it was very telling in itself. It was a pretty basic construction. Maybe not a full sentence according to a grammar sage, but certainly a complete spoken thought; especially amongst the two brothers, who needn't really finish most of their sentences.

…_I hate seeing you covered in blood! I hate it!…_

Ed had pondered over it a few days, because it had seemed so out of place… aside from little scrapes as kids, Ed could only think of one time when he had been drenched in blood. It was the first thing Al saw after the Gate took his body. He woke up, his body gone, and Ed in a puddle of his own blood… Ed really couldn't think of anything more traumatizing. Except for 3 seconds later when Al had looked over (after Ed told him _not _to) and saw their mother…

Ed figured that any sort of blood on him sent Al right back to that moment. Ed hated doing that to him. Ed hated being the one that put him there in the first place, and when Al was reminded of it, Ed felt the fresh stab of guilt into the old aching wound of grief.

Which was probably why he was leaning against this stupid wall, taking a not-so needed extra 5 minutes. A combination of dragging his sorry failure ridden ass back to Mustang, and that look Al would give him…

Well not literally. Armor can't really express too much. Except cat napping.

But when Ed looked at Al, he didn't see armor. He just saw Al. When he spoke he could see his brothers face… his 10-year-old face, but all the expressions that face made, and even in silence Ed knew what Alphonse was thinking. In the silence he could see Al's face wrought with worry, and thoughtful silence.

Ed gripped his wound tighter. He had to go sooner or later. Al was Ed's aegis, no doubt about it, even if they did fight every once in a while. It would be good to hear Al talk about cats, or kitties, or whatever he called them after a day like this.

But before that…he sighed, getting up off the wall and trudging toward the open streets… he had to deal with Colonel Shit.

"Edward!" Ed snapped to attention as he heard the woman's voice. It was dreadfully past regular office hours, imagine Ed's surprise when he heard Riza Hawkeye's light gasp of alarm. It seemed as he had surprised her too. "What are you doing here-" The First Lieutenant looked the boy over, her amber eyes quite placid while doing so. She wasn't easily riled, and while seeing the boy's clothes ruined by blood made her want to slap her commanding officer, she wasn't all that amazed.

"Hey, Hawkeye." Edward said tiredly, his eyes showed the strain of the fight, of blood loss and of not sleeping for a good 48 hours now. "I mean-" Edward stuttered quickly. "First Lieutenant."

Riza smirked lightly, and half-heartedly at the boy in front of her.

"I take it you need to see the Colonel…" She said apologetically.

"Yeah." Edward growled, wincing slightly.

"Edward, not to be blunt, but couldn't you have gone to the hospital first?" She stated lightly.

Ed raised his eyebrow at her. Then his expression changed to much warranted surprise. He had told himself the entire way to the complex to "just see the Old Man and get it over with". He hadn't factored in the caked on dirt and blood and gaping wound in his arm. Talk about having a one-track mind… Well, he _had _wanted to bleed on the Colonel.

Edward laughed embarrassedly, for lack of anything more appropriate.

"Guess I'm a bit more tired that I thought, eh?"

"Should you go to the infirmary, Edward?" She asked him.

"Nah…" Edward said. Riza's eyebrow twitched and rose. The look of the boy in front of her showed otherwise. The wound looked quite serious even from under his shredded coat.

"Let me see it." Riza crossed her arms.

"Huh?" Edward blinked at her; he could have sworn he heard her say-

"Let me see it."

Yes, that was exactly what Ed had heard. Ed didn't move.

"Or I will call the Colonel and personally have him drag you to the hospital." She threatened. That got him moving. Slowly. She could see that it hurt him to release the grip on his arm, let alone begin to take off his coat. The protective streak in her almost made her step foreword, and her hand twitched at her side to reach out and help him. But that would just be demeaning to a boy like Edward. Riza knew the type. She was surrounded by them.

Ed managed to get his red coat off; some of the material was stuck in the wound. Next was the black long sleeve… Edward grimaced. He un-clipped the clasp and slid his automail arm out, unfortunately having to move his left as well. As he removed the garment from his left arm, the cloth was stuck in the gash and he had to pull it out.

"Mother fucker!" He said quite loudly and gripped his arm again, which was freshly bleeding. His automail hand was covered with blood, fresh and dried.

"Edward, sit down…" Riza brought out a chair for him; afraid the boy would fall down. Ed sat down heavily, eyes looking a bit more glazed than before. She had gotten out a first aide kid of sorts, Ed saw. Must've been when he was undressing.

She knelt on one knee in front of the short alchemist.

"Move you hand, please…" She asked him. He did, looking over at a plant in the corner, automail hand gripping the space of chair between his legs. He sat so that he could lean his right metal arm against the back of the chair, and he did so as he felt exhaustion come over him. He never could look at people when they were inspecting him, or whatnot. When Winry or Pinako did his automail he could never look at them. At least Riza's no nonsense attitude was less awkward than Winry glancing at him concernedly every so often.

Riza looked over the wound. It was a bit ragged, but it could have been worse. Worse would have had the boy in the hospital or possibly dead from blood loss.

"What did this?"

"Um… " Ed thought back to being thrown back into the debris pile. "Sharp rock, maybe metal."

Riza nodded. So the wound was not clean…

After an hour of rampant cursing and quiet apologies, Edward was sewn up and bandaged and was now passed out in the same chair, looking like he'd been through a war. Riza was cleaning up the kit and her hands of the boy's blood when she heard footsteps. Apparently _someone_ had just finished his much put off paperwork.

A loud self-pitying groan was heard outside the room. Riza just couldn't help herself.

"You know, Sir, if you had just done the filing this morning-" she said in an "I told you so, you moron" tone.

"Hawkeye?" Colonel Mustang said in a flabbergasted voice, walking into the room. His uniform was askew, probably from lazing around and procrastinating, then wanting to relax as he tackled the job he loathed. "What on earth are you still doing here?" Roy checked his watch. It was nearly 1 AM.

"Doing the other half of your paper work, Sir." Riza gave him the evil eye, which was quite evil considering how serious her eyes were to begin with.

"Ah." Roy replied simply. He felt a bit guilty, yes, but Riza would forgive and forget- eventually. It was about then he noticed the shirtless honey-blonde boy sleeping heavily in the chair, looking as if he'd seen better days. "Does this qualify as paperwork? He's about the size of the stack I just went through-"

"Colonel, I think it would be better to save the short jokes for when he's awake." Riza finished cleaning the room and putting everything away and stood to face her commanding officer, arms crossed. "He came in injured. I decided it would be best to clean him up." Riza nodded in Ed's direction.

"Well, good decision. I wouldn't want the twerp bleeding on my carpet now would I?" Roy replied casually. Riza could tell he was giving Ed the once over, however, and she could have sworn she detected a small flash of guilt in his oil-dark eyes.

Roy did feel guilty. Fullmetal was trashed, to put it bluntly. He had bruises scattered all over his chest, and a rather large yellow and greenish one where his shoulder socket was on his left arm. The worst damage- Roy suspected- was under the bandage on his arm, put in a sling. There was blood in his hair, probably his own, hopefully whatever enemy the boy had encountered. But that probability was low- Edward had never killed anyone that Roy knew of. That was a key difference between them, but there were quite a few- in fact he and the boy were polar opposites, right down to their appearance. Roy- tall, dark, handsome and the will to get anything and everything done; Fullmetal- short, blonde, childish, and stupidly willing to do anything. He had caught Riza hinting that perhaps they weren't so dissimilar more than once. He'd glared at her each time. But she shrugged it off. Once Hawkeye had made up her mind, it was set.

"I think you should take Edward home, Sir."

"Huh?" Roy snapped back to attention. Who the hell was Edward?

"Fullmetal, sir. Take him home." Roy looked at Fullmetal; he never could remember the kid's name… what a dumb name…

"Take him home?" Roy spluttered as dignified as possible.

"Yes, Colonel." Riza said simply. "He'll need a day to recover from blood loss, and it should be spent in bed, rather than in a chair where he'll freeze to death. Not to mention Alphonse will be worried."

Roy sighed. She was right- but that didn't mean he had to like it.

"Do you have a spare shirt to lend him, sir?"

"You're kidding me right?" Roy scoffed in disbelief. Riza pointed to Edward's ruined clothes (including the tank top she had to cut off of him) to tell Roy that no, she was not kidding. Roy sighed disgustedly. "Hold on, I'll get one."

Riza was not surprised that the Colonel had extra shirts in his office- he did spend a great deal sleeping in there, and for a man wanting to be Furher to walk out of his office in a wrinkled shirt would be unacceptable to both Riza and said man.

He trudged back in about a minute, carrying the white shirt in hand. A clean one, Riza noted, and stood in the doorway. Riza gave him the eyebrow and he walked in and stood next to Edward. Riza could clearly see that she had to take initiative, as Mustang seemed completely lost. She sighed and walked over to the boy, and putting her right hand on the boy's back, gently eased him forward and held him up, so that Roy could put the shirt on him- if he felt at all qualified to dress someone.

Roy couldn't help but notice how gentle Riza was with the boy, and it stunned him for a moment. When Roy thought of the First Lieutenant, "gentle" was not one of the first words that came to mind. Strong, yes; fierce, loyal, dedicated, tactful, all of the above; but not gentle. And yet that was the exact trait she was displaying, It was a sight to be seen, Fullmetal's—Edward's—head resting on her shoulder, not even an eyelid twitching, just his closed eyes set in dark circles as he slept on.

It as clear to Riza that the Colonel, despite his rotten attitude towards Edward, didn't see the alchemist as simply a hindrance. It was a theory reinforced by how gingerly the Colonel put the shirt on the boy. Riza knew better to say anything, however. Roy Mustang had never hinted one that he might want to be a father one day- where as Havoc had said so on numerous occasions, and clearly Hughes, god rest him, had. Roy was a bachelor in best sense of the word, and yet as Riza watched him around Edward, she realized Roy was the closest thing to a father Edward had at this time and place in his life. Whether the Colonel had realized that or not, she had no way of knowing, but he certainly had some paternal instincts toward the boy in times like this. Riza smiled lightly, but was quick to conceal it as Roy passed her the shirt to place it over Edward's injured arm. She (with Roy's help) eased Ed back into the chair so that she could button the much-too-large shirt.

Riza stood, and began to unbutton her blue wool uniform coat.

"What are you doing?" Roy asked her, perplexed.

"Edward will need a jacket so he doesn't get cold when you carry him outside to the car." She said matter of factly. Roy would be damned if he let Riza out chivalry him. He held up a hand to halt her.

"I'll do it, wouldn't want you catching a cold outside. Then how would the paperwork get done?" Roy replied, just as matter of factly.

Riza nodded, slightly amused.

Roy removed his coat quickly, and with a sort of debonair grace. Showing off as usual. But the show quickly ended as he took it upon himself to support Fullmetal. He handed the coat to Riza as he lifted the boy's back from the chair and Riza wrapped the thick blue coat that smelled wonderfully like a seasoned flint around Edward. Roy wrapped his left arm around Ed's back and his right under the boy's legs and lifted him up fairly easily. Riza opened the door for the Colonel, and they started down the hall with Roy readjusting the boy's weight slightly every few doors.

Roy was thinking several snide comments to slip Fullmetal about his weight when the kid woke up. The twerp was what- five foot five maximum and he must've weighed 150 lbs.

"God in heaven this kid is heavy…" Roy grumbled, Riza, who was a few steps ahead didn't look back when she replied.

"Weren't you the one saying that you didn't want to arm-wrestle Lt. Havoc because you didn't want to hurt him? That couldn't have been a cover now could it-"

"Can it, Hawkeye." Roy growled. She had a point. Roy wasn't weak by any instance, in fact he was quite strong and anyone would say so. But then there was Havoc, who was younger, taller, and much more used to being in the field than Roy. Roy was a thirty-something, and Jean was a twenty-something. Jean was the equivalent to Roy when he was in Ishbal. Roy thought it better not to test his luck in front of an office full of his subordinates. Roy probably would have won out of sheer determination, but if he struggled doing so, it would be like losing in their eyes anyway. Better to not accept a challenge than to not be perfect at it, well… for some things anyway.

Riza smirked to herself.

She had been right about the cold. Roy wanted to glare at the sleeping boy in his arms for taking his coat. They made their way through the thick February wind as it whipped at their faces and clothes to the car. Hawkeye opened the back door and Roy pondered the best way to get the boy in the car as Riza sat in the drivers seat. There was just no graceful way for Roy to do this… So, with no pomp and circumstance, Roy leaned into the car and tried his best to not wake up Fullmetal. He wasn't surprised when Fullmetal didn't wake up. He wasn't surprised either at his uncanny notion that he had just looked like the worlds biggest dolt getting the kid in the car as well. Fullmetal made Roy look like an idiot—how fortunate for Roy that the boy was asleep and wasn't aware of his victory.

Roy quickly shut the door and made his way to the passenger's side of the car, wanting to be out of the cold. He dropped himself into the seat, shivering lightly, and Riza started the car. She was looking placid and somewhat smug as usual, Roy couldn't help but notice.

"So, what did Fullmetal say when he showed up?"

"Not too much. He was a bit dazed." She replied. Roy crossed his arms for warmth and reclined in the seat, glancing back at Fullmetal from the rear-view mirror. Still asleep. Roy wondered if the kid was dead… "From what I gathered he just wanted to give you the report and get home to Alphonse."

"Ah." Roy said grunted. "Well, he owes me a report. I'm dying to know how he managed to bloody himself yet again." He added sarcastically.

"He bloodied himself on the assignment you sent him on, Sir." Riza said. Another ten points Hawkeye, which brought the score ten billion to one, her favor… thought Roy.

"Funny." Roy said, un-amused. "I send him on the assignments he is qualified to do." He added quieter. Riza knew she wasn't meant to answer that, and Roy said it more for himself than for her. He did that every so often. Riza had a feeling it was because—again – he felt guilty. But it wasn't really her place to assume. "Did he say anything else?"

"Yes;" Riza began calmly. "He said 'mother fucker' about eight times; 'shit' in the 10's range; and 'fuck' again in the 10's range; he also made up some rather colorful variations." She glanced over at Roy who had the strangest look on her face. Like he thought she was insane.

"You asked…" she said, moving her eyes to the road again. Roy continued to stare at Riza, trying not to smirk. Riza turned into the dorm complex the Elrics called home.

She parked, and Roy fetched Fullmetal from the back of the car, once again looking like an ignoramus. Roy was once again cursing Fullmetal and his entire family ancestry as he walked quickly to catch up with Riza—until he heard the boy groan lightly. Roy stopped in his tracks and looked down at Edward's face for the first time ever being this close to the boy. Roy felt a little uncomfortable, yes. He was never good with kids. Ever. But that seemed to melt away as he looked at Edward. He really did look terrible. One of his closed eyes had a bruise around it; the other was just dark from lack of sleep and loss of blood. He had a slight sheen of sweat on his forehead and his cheeks looked flushed. Roy considered that perhaps the boy was unconscious rather than asleep.

He snapped back to attention and started walking again.

"Hawkeye, " Roy said, meeting her on the steps. "Did he happen to mention how long ago the injury was sustained?" Roy said, voice completely no nonsense.

"No, Sir. From the way it looked, and the way the blood had dried and coagulated I guestimated at least 8 hours."

Roy nodded.

"Would you feel his forehead, please?" Riza did as Roy asked and frowned. "Fever?" Roy said as a statement more than a question.

"Yes, Sir."

"It's probably a minor infection." Roy nodded to himself. "If he still has it in the morning, Alphonse should make the brat go to the infirmary for medication."

Riza nodded, and opened the door to the building. Lucky for Colonel Mustang the Elrics only lived on the 4th floor. Rather than the 5th. Just as Roy thought he would have to walk up 4 flights of stairs, Riza pointed out the caged elevator.

It was silent as they made their way up to the dorm room. The entire building was locked away in a state of comatose euphoria. Soldiers loved their sleep. Soldiers in peacetime loved their sleep. Anyone who had seen battle dreaded nighttime dreams. Roy knew probably best of all…

Colonel Mustang made those thoughts vanish as he stood in front of what he presumed to the Eric's door. He had never been there, nor felt the need to even know where it was. Riza had that all covered anyway.

Riza rapped on the door with the back of her knuckles lightly.

On Al's part, that sort of thing was unheard of. Edward never knocked. He would bust down the door. And if the door happened to be locked, a slew of cursing and "AL! Why'd you lock the stupid door! Open up!"

Alphonse stared at the door in a sort of strange shock. He had been waiting all day for his stubborn idiot brother to return- and to top off the hours of waiting, bored out of his young mind, he was now greeted with a foreign knock on the door. If Al had been any less of the sweet boy he was he might have been just plain frustrated instead of the bit perturbed that he was. That knock couldn't be good.

"Alphonse, open up. It's Lieutenant Hawkeye." Riza said politely.

Al came back to his senses, and jumped up, his armor clanging with the clumsy movement.

"Coming!" Al said quickly and opened the door wide to see a horrible sight. The First Lieutenant looked as proper as ever, however her eyes contained a hint of worry in them, as she stood to face Alphonse Elric. Back from her right shoulder was Colonel Mustang, holding his unconscious brother.

Al was stunned to silence. He was frozen to the spot, eyes locked on his brother.

"Ed! C-Colonel, what-"

"Its alright Alphonse." Roy said calmly and as commanding as ever. Al was stunned into silence once more.

"He was injured on assignment," Hawkeye replied. "He should be alright."

"Where should I put him?" Roy said, adjusting Ed's weight again. Ed picked that perfect time to let out another pained groan in his sleep.

Al let out a small sound of concern, almost inaudible as he continued to stare at his injured brother. He was pale, his usual expressions of arrogance far gone and replaced with exhaustion and pain. He looked like… Al grew even more sickened when he saw the blood in Edward's hair.

"Alphonse?" Riza asked quietly.

"Um," Al once again tried to recover and stepped back from the doorway. "His bed is here…" Al pointed to a bed that was messily made across from one in pristine order. It was clear whose bed was whose.

Al watched Roy step foreword and very gently set Ed down on the bed. Alphonse took in the scene. How unusual it was to see Ed and Roy in the same room and not screaming at each other… even more so that Roy (given Ed's vulnerability) had chosen to take care of Edward. Roy didn't even know Ed's name! Not that Alphonse didn't admire Roy; in fact Al was quite fond of the Colonel- from a distance. Ed was so stubborn and well, just _Ed_ that he didn't realize how much the Colonel had helped them. Even if it was "tough love" so to speak.

"He has a fever," Roy said in a no-nonsense, sort of bored tone. "It could mean infection." Roy said, taking the trouble to cover Edward with the blankets. He himself didn't even think of the action, merely performed it. "If he's still got it-" Roy began, but Riza interrupted him.

"If he still seems sick to you when he wakes up, he'll need to go to the infirmary and follow those instructions before reporting back." She said gently to the younger brother.

"Right." Al said, quietly, glancing back at his brother. "Thank you, both… thanks a lot."He said even quieter.

Riza simply smiled slightly at Alphonse, and saluted (even though the brother was technically not a member of the military). Al did the same back, and Roy nodded, and then just as quickly as the two had appeared, he showed them out the door, in a sort of daze.

"Lieutenant, why did you interrupt me in there?" Roy asked, as soon as they were down the hall a ways. He was in hushed tones, arms crossed, and looking rather thoughtful.

"You were going to say," Riza began, " "If he still has a fever…" "

"Yes?" Roy asked a bit annoyed at Riza's methodical approach to everything. Including correcting him, as it were.

"Alphonse couldn't tell if Ed had a fever."

Roy looked at her in question.

"He can't feel anything, sir." Riza re-iterated a fact that Roy knew, but clearly hadn't realized.

Roy looked at the floor as he walked the rest of the way to the car.

"Mother fuuuuuuuuucker…"

It was Edward's turn to let out a loud and self-pitying groan. And he did it quite effectively. His automail hand went to his aching head, and he let out a heavy sigh. He felt worse than shitty. He felt like… like…Mustang would feel after Ed beat up said moron. If that had actually happened… which it didn't. Unfortunately. So instead of that amusing analogy, he decided that he felt like a train had hit him. And then it backed over him a few times, only to continue on its merry way… then back up again. Fuckin' locomotives.

His last hours were an absolute blur. Less than a blur. A big fat annoying nothing. He remembered the fight. Stupid mother fucking chimera. He set his jaw tightly. What the hell was the last thing he remembered? Lieutenant Hawkeye… And a lot of pain. Well, apparently he'd dragged his sorry ass back to HQ. And Riza had tortured him. Or fixed him up, whichever.

He slid his hand down and only covered the right side of his face, the cool steel feeling wonderful against his painfully warm skin and swollen right eye. He opened his left and looked around the room blearily. He grunted again. Well, he was back in his hellhole dorm again. He closed his eye again, sighing quietly. Last night had clearly been a disaster. He didn't even want to move. He didn't want to blink, think, breathe, anything. But unfortunately for the hurting boy, being awake and being Edward Elric meant that he was restless and twitchy and his mind was racing with thoughts he desperately tired to ignore.

_Did I give my report? Does anyone know what the information I found out even was? How did I get back to my room? Did I walk back but I don't remember anything? Mustang is SUCH an ass… I don't think I busted anything… Winry would fuckin' kill me if she had to make an adjustment with me hurt… again… she'd probably start that crying again. Where the shit is Alphonse? What the hell time is it?_

"God, enough…" Ed growled to himself to try to stop the barrage of consciousness. He dropped his hand from his face, and back to the bed. It took him a moment to realize that his face and eyes felt like they were burning, despite how chilly he felt. He replaced his automail hand. At least it was good for something.

"Edward?" The older Elric heard his brother say in a small voice from what he assumed was the doorway. Ed hadn't even heard the door open.

"Hey, Al." Ed spoke, his voice incredibly rough and unused. He sounded like he had strep throat for chrissake. That had been a pleasant experience… he rolled his closed eyes, and cleared his throat. "What time is it?" He asked quieter. Nope, his voice still sounded like shit.

"Almost four." Al clanked his way over to the end of his brother's bed.

"What?" Ed exclaimed rather loudly, his voice cracking this time. _This is just fucking fabulous. I sound like a moron._

"You've slept all day…" Al looked at his brother, and knew instantly that Edward was in no shape to report to the Colonel. Or even get to the infirmary. Al sat down on his bed, facing his brother. He sighed. "You really scared me Ed." Al said quietly.

On top of all the physical pain Ed was going through, now it all was heightened by remorse as he stared at the ceiling. What was he supposed to say to that? What could he say to that? Ed was not one for sentimentality. Ever. Ed couldn't say anything, even if he wanted to, he'd just fuck it up anyway. So instead, Ed let the silence take the space of his apology.

Of course Al knew all of this. In fact, the silence was more than enough of an apology. Ed could have ignored what Al had said, and just spoke. But he didn't. He was clearly thinking about what Al had said. That in itself was the best apology Al could have gotten. Ed never said what he meant. He was a lying little shit, Al did say so himself… in nicer terms of course. It was what Ed did (or didn't do in this case) that mattered.

Ed made a sound of discomfort as he moved ever so slightly.

"Mother fucker, " He sighed pathetically. "I feel like shit, Al." His voice still felt like sandpaper and broken glass, and he imagined it didn't sound to pretty either.

"The Lieutenant said that you may have an infection. I think I should call the infirmary and have them send a-"

"Oh, Hawkeye brought me up, eh? Man, that woman takes duty to a whole new level." Ed managed to grapple out; he tried clearing his throat, but it was to no avail. "She spends too much time babysitting the Colonel." His voice cracked and gave out on Colonel, much to his dismay.

"Ed, you really shouldn't talk, you're clearly sick."

Ed heaved a sigh of annoyance, but knew Al was right. Al was always right; it was like insult to injury. Al was taller, more likeable, AND was always right. Deep down Ed also knew that when the day came when he would be able to look at his brother in the flesh, Al would probably be better looking too. Well, Ed thought, Ed made up for it all in volume and annoyance.

Ed removed his now warm metal hand from his face, and for the first time noticed the white collared shirt that he was wearing. With the sleeves rolled up.

"Al?" Ed's voice sounded like gravel in a blender now. "Whose fucking shirt am I wearing?"

Al only caught about every other word of that… but got the jist of it.

"I assume its Colonel Mustan-"

Edward's eyes narrowed at the rolled up sleeves. Fucking Colonel, his mind growled. Ed threw the blankets off his torso, and went about proving a long thought of theory. Al had no idea what his brother was thinking when Ed grabbed the shirt at his stomach and pulled straight up on it. There was quite a bit of excess fabric though, and that seemed to replace some of the shine in Ed's golden brown eyes.

"HA!" Ed exclaimed, voice cracking painfully. "I always knew the old man was fat!"

Al really wondered why he was surprised, as he sighed disgustedly, re-covering his brother.

"Brother, you're a moron."

Ed flashed Al a clearly miffed look, but didn't speak. _At least it'll be quiet around here for once…_ Al mused. Just like when Ed had strep throat. That had been a pleasant experience, Al ruminated sarcastically.

Havoc nearly lit himself on fire when "short boss" walked in. Havoc had never seen that kid look worse- well, he had, but Edward had been in a bed. Not walking around. The kid had the same complexion as "white-boy" Fury. He looked pretty banged up, but Havoc didn't get a particularly good look at him, so it could have been his imagination. His arm was defiantly in a sling though, and his walk was slow. Ed had gimped around the office before, but, with his hair in a ponytail, it just seemed to make it worse for some reason… Ed didn't even give him a nod; he was clearly on a mission,

Edward looked like shit and he knew it. Al had called the infirmary doctor what- 3 days ago now? Technically he still had two days left on his "bed rest" but the doctor was a figure of authority, therefore Ed had to NOT do what the doctor said to spite the quack. Al had said; "ED! You're just going to make yourself miserable!" Or something like that. Ed thought about that, decided that Al was probably right, then got up and got dressed.

The infection was really kicking his ass. He could still barely talk, and his fever was persistent. Seeing as it was late afternoon, said fever was making a triumphant comeback. The circles under his eyes were persistent, as was his exhaustion. It was like a slap in the face on top of his injuries to be sick from them. And he couldn't even hide the injury and just say he was sick. His stupid arm had to be in a sling so it could heal. Fucking quack doctor from hell… Ed snorted lightly as he made his way down the hall.

"Major Elric!" A rather large booming voice froze Ed in his tracks, and he turned his head so fast that his hair in its freedom decided to whap him one in the face. He gave a short sigh, and glowered at Major Armstrong. "You aren't off your sick leave yet! What are you doing here?"

_Could he say it any fuckin' louder?_ Ed rolled his eyes. He knew he was going to have to talk and waste some of his voice… he had planned on saving it all for the lecture he was going to give the Bastard.

Ed nodded. "I know," He croaked and cleared his throat. The big oaf Armstrong, who had been advancing on Edward (probably looking for a bone crunching bear hug) stopped and regarded the boy. He certainly was suffering. "I have to give a report." It was funny how a person sounded when their voice was going. His "I" and "have" had been incredibly garbled and faint, as had the "re-" in report. The rest came through sturdy, but graveled to the point of pain. It was such an annoying mix. A sort of juxtaposition of pwnage, Ed thought. "Mustang here?" He mumbled out.

"Yes, Edward." Major Armstrong replied. "With Lieutenant Hawkeye in his office."

Ed nodded thanks and nodded his head to say that's where he was headed. He sighed heavily when he was out of range. He just wished he could get in the damn place, chew out Mustang, and leave without everyone staring at him. He _knew_ he looked back, he _knew_ he was sick and injured, could he not be reminded by people every five fuckin' seconds? No. People are morons. He decided.

He didn't bother knocking as he reached the doorway, and opened the heavy wood door with his automail hand and flung it open.

Hawkeye, on her part didn't _look_ surprised. Roy looked like a complete putz as he watched the zombie walk into his office.

"I didn't expect to see you so soon, Edward." Riza said coolly, knowing very well if she told the little idiot to go home he'd throw a fit. She'd rather not deal with that, as it had been an uphill battle to get the Colonel to do _anything_ today.

_Finally…_ Ed let out another sigh._ Someone how isn't a moron!_

"Yeah, aren't you supposed to be in bed still?" Roy replied, still looking like a putz. Ed glowered at the Colonel, and Riza made no effort to conceal her more-than-exasperated eye roll.

Edward was tempted to say "Shut up" now more than ever to his commanding officer.

"I have to give my report, shit head." Edward growled. On top of his failing voice, he was completely unintelligible.

"What?" Roy asked, he knew why Fullmetal was here, but he really hadn't understood what the minion had said.

"REPORT!" Ed yelled, his voice cracking with a vengeance, and making him wince. That had hurt something fierce… Ed's automail hand went to his throat, and rubbed lightly. Riza shook her head lightly at the boy. She wondered how long it had been since that kid had gotten a hug and dismissed herself.

"Alright!" Roy answered back loudly, he found Fullmetal tolerable unconscious, but now that the kid was awake it was all over. Roy wanted to slap him. "Jesus, if you don't have a voice, don't talk. It sounds horrible."

Ed nearly blew a gasket.

"I have to talk to give you…" He cleared his throat again. "My stupid fucking report!"

"Why didn't you write it down? Now you're just going to lose your damn voice and it's going to be a game of charades."

"I can't write it down!" Ed's voice rose in volume and in pitch. He gestured to his writing arm.

"It says you're right handed in your file, Ed." Roy glared at the boy.

"I am!" He cracked. "I can't write with my fucking automail!" Roy found the ups and downs of Edwards voice mixed with the cracking and growling kind of funny… "It's too strong!"

"Ah-" Roy was tempted to ask "so then that's why you're writing is atrocious?" but he contained himself, seeing as Edward looked like he was out for blood. Roy's blood, and only Roy's blood. He couldn't resist, however; "Why didn't you have your brother write it for you?"

"Because you said it was classified information, you shit!" Edward erupted. He barely had anything left to talk with, let alone yell- and yet, he could still be loud.

"Alright, alright. Give it to me." Roy reclined in his chair.

_I'll give it to you all right…_ Ed thought devilishly, and images of him pulverizing Roy flashed before his eyes.

15 Minutes later, Ed had no voice, and Roy was looking mildly interested in all of it.

"So that's when you blacked out? And he got away?"

Ed nodded morosely from his place on the couch, his head resting on his hand.

"Alright then." Roy sighed. "Another point for Fullmetal." Roy said sarcastically. Ed flashed him an evil glare. Roy looked at the boy. He looked different. With his hair like that (he guessed that Ed couldn't do anything with his hair, so the brother had put it up) and different clothes. His shirt was dark navy, and zipped up the front. Really just a zip up cotton shirt. It was a departure for Ed, that's for sure. Speaking of shirts. "Give me back my shirt, Edward."

"No." Edward answered quickly and quietly.

Roy was stunned.

"What do you mean, no?" He asked slowly.

"Because," Ed winced with the pain in his throat. "I'm burning you in effigy wearing that fuckin shirt, Old Man."

"Excuse me?" Roy asked rather miffed. "You can't burn my shirt!"

"Oh yes I can, fatty." Edward grinned.

Roy as very put off by the fat remark. That kid was an idiot. Roy was taller so _naturally _he was bigger around. At least Roy had _adult_ clothes and not 12-year-old sizes…

"Do you have any idea how many times I could Court Martial you?"

"Whatever." Ed croaked again and stood up, looking a bit paler after his yelling match with the Colonel earlier.

"Just go home and sleep, god knows you need it."

"Shut up." Ed muttered as he turned his back on him. "I'm fine."

"Sleep promotes growth, you know." Roy crossed his arms, knowing that he would win this one. Edward slowly turned to send Roy a look of death. "Havoc informed me that he got at least 8 hours of sleep a night when he was growing. And look at him. He's quite tall, Ed." Roy looked at the boy, clearly sizing him up. "Although I think you would have to sleep for like a month…"

"WHO ARE YOU CALLING-" Ed gripped his throat painfully, as Riza walked into the room that was erupting into chaos. Alphonse was not far behind her.

"Brother!"

"Colonel!"

Roy's response was standing up and looked at Edward concernedly, as the boy began to cough violently, shaking.

_I'm an idiot…_ Roy thought, rolling his eyes.

"Ed, are you okay?" Al put a hand on Ed's back. Ed immediately stopped choking and moved away from his brother, shrugging his shoulders out of Al's reach.

"I'm fine." He managed to sound. He looked at Roy. "I'm going to burn your coat too!"

"Don't you DARE touch that coat, Fullmetal!"

"Oh, I'LL DO IT!" Ed sounded like a rockslide.

"If there's anyone that can _burn_ things around here, it'll be me setting you on fire, shorty!"

"What other alchemy can you do, JACKASS? Besides burn shit!"

Al sighed a thousand angry sighs and crossed his arms. Of course Ed was fine. He was fighting. He was perfectly okay.

"COLONEL!" Riza's voice traveled above all of them, and everyone turned to look at her, wide eyed. Riza never raised her voice… "You have a call." She said slowly and deliberately to prevent herself from yelling again.

"Right…" Roy said, sitting back down. He looked at Ed, flashing an arrogant bastard smile. "You're dismissed, Fullmetal."

"Fuck you." Edward muttered turning around and leaving. Al looked at Roy, embarrassed for Edward, and then at Riza.

"Thank you for showing me in, First lieutenant. He said quickly, gave her a nod and chased after his brother. "Ed! Wait up!"

Riza glared at her commanding officer.

"What?" He asked her, realizing he really didn't have a call. Oh that crafty Hawkeye…

"Your paternal instincts need some serious work, Sir." She said shortly and walked out of the room. "…Idiot…" She muttered as she closed the door behind her. Riza let out a very, very small sigh. That night had been quite a departure… and she'd thought about it often. But, now that the little terrorist was back in commission, everything was clearly back to normal. She sat down at her desk, her hands looking for something to grasp- a pencil would suffice; as she began to tap it lightly against the polished dark wood surface.

To her left Havoc was tormenting Fury… again… she should really step in, but was compelled to finish her thoughts first. After all, Fury was a grown man… boy… all right; he wasn't "grown" at all, but then neither was Havoc's mentality so really her point of justification was ruined.

"Hey boss lady!" Havoc called from across the room. Riza looked at him, not bothering to hide her annoyance at that particular nickname. "Why was Ed here? His report couldn't have been that crucial?"

Riza merely shrugged.

"Edward thought it was important enough."

Havoc shrugged back and then slapped Fury in the back of the head with a manila envelope full of papers before handing it to him.

But Havoc had a very good point… Ed didn't have to come in and give that report. Just like Roy didn't have to carry Edward home. Riza smirked to herself. They did hate each other. She knew that. But it seemed that they might respect each other a little bit too…


End file.
